


All the Lonely People

by patientalien, queenhandmaidensenator



Series: The Eleanor Rigby Series [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Self-Destruction, Substance Abuse, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 09:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patientalien/pseuds/patientalien, https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhandmaidensenator/pseuds/queenhandmaidensenator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bail's side of "No One Was Saved" - it's hard to watch a friend suffer, and Bail has to do so with Padme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Lonely People

> It’s the third meeting she’s missed in as many days. Bail checks his wrist chrono again and glances up at the door, expecting her to scurry in at any moment with gracious apologies for her tardiness, but she does not appear. “I’m sorry, my friends," he says to the assembled committee, holding his hands out, “Senator Amidala could not attend today, but I’m sure she would not mind if we continued in her absence."

 

> The line is getting tired, and Bail is getting worried. It’s not like Padme to miss so many of her own committee meetings, and it’s not like her to leave session in the middle of the day - he’s sure he saw her in her pod in the morning assembly, because he looked specifically for her. He hadn’t been able to catch her before she’d left, and he wishes he had tried harder. 
> 
> "If Senator Amidala does not consider this proposal to be important, I don’t see why we should stay," says Garm Bel Iblis and Bail sort of wants to punch him. The rest of them, with the possible exception of Mon Mothma, do not know Padme like he does; they do not realize that if she is not here it is not because she doesn’t find the proposal important (because he knows she does - she’s been working on it tirelessly for months) but because there is something else going on. He wonders briefly if there has been any news from the front lines of the war recently, anything that could have disrupted her concentration. But no, he can’t think of any reports about Anakin Skywalker. Plus the behavior has been going on since before the famed Jedi team’s last furlough. Not precisely the absences, but the flightiness, the exhausted look in her eyes. 
> 
> He remembers the last dinner party he’d thrown, the small get-togethers reserved for her, and Obi-Wan, and Anakin, a month prior. She and Anakin had gotten themselves incredibly intoxicated, and Obi-Wan had apologized profusely for his former apprentice’s behavior as they’d left and Padme had ended up sleeping on Bail’s sofa. The same scenario had played itself out at a private dinner between just him and Padme; he’d needed some respite from the ordeal of finding out about yet another of his and Breha’s failed attempts at bringing a baby to term and while Padme had done her best to be supportive, to be the listening ear he so desperately relied on in such times, he could tell her mind was elsewhere, her alcohol intake remarkably increased from the norm. He’d walked her back up to her own apartment, and the only thing that had kept him from staying to make sure she was safe was Dorme’s insistence that she would watch over her mistress, with the veiled suggestion that these were no longer isolated incidents.
> 
> Bail, of course, did not speak of this to anyone. Padme was his friend, and whatever she was struggling with was her own business and not that of the gossip-mongers in the Senate. Still, he’s heard talk anyway. He does his best to quash it, but it getting harder and with her recent tendencies to leave in the middle of the day, it’s downright impossible. 
> 
> "I can assure you that if Senator Amidala could be here, she would," he informs Bel Iblis icily. “Now let’s get to it, shall we?" 
> 
> ——-
> 
> When his official workday ends, he leaves earlier than his usual time, telling Sheltay he needs to attend to some personal business. He does not tell her any more than that - she is discrete, but he does not know who else may be listening. It bothers him on some level that he’s become so paranoid about his association with Padme, but he is determined to talk some sense into her.
> 
> He parks his speeder on her private landing pad and enters her apartment - he’s had a key card for as long as they have been friends. “Padme?" he calls out, crossing the threshold into her living room. There is little evidence of her presence, but as he walks towards the bedroom, the coffee table catches his attention. There is an overturned wine bottle and a pill vial there. He picks them both up - the vial has Anakin’s name printed on it; he doesn’t recognize the name of the medication, but the instructions say “take one as needed for sleep. Do not take with alcohol." 
> 
> It, and the wine bottle, are empty and Bail feels a swelling dread in his chest. “PADME?" he calls out again. The apartment seems empty, not even her handmaidens are in attendance, a fact that causes hot barbs of growing fear to lance across his mind. He runs to the bedroom, but it too is empty. “Padme?"
> 
> Then he sees her foot, sticking just out of the doorway to her ‘fresher. He runs over, and recoils. She is curled on the ‘fresher floor, a puddle of vomit under her head. She is barely clothed, the tunic she is wearing riding up high on her bare thighs. She is shaking, eyes squeezed closed, breathing slow and shallow. 
> 
> He kneels down, not caring about the mess, and hefts her into his arms. “Padme? Padme!" He shakes her, and her eyes slit open for a brief moment, then slide closed again. 
> 
> Bail looks around frantically, trying to decide what to do. Calling for an emergency transport will take too long, he determines, especially since his speeder has been modified to perform well above the registered speed limits, and his diplomatic ID plates will prevent any law enforcement interference. He stands, carrying her in his arms, and runs to the landing pad, sliding her into the passenger seat and leaping himself into the driver’s side. 
> 
> She vomits again on the way to the med center, and he holds her head to the side with one hand while steering with the other, glancing over as often as he dares to make sure she is still breathing. 
> 
> As he reaches the emergency department entrance she makes a strangled gurgling noise and he leaves his speeder idling - let it get stolen, he does not care - as he runs with her to the front desk. She is taken from his arms and whisked away and he is left because he is not related to her and “could you move your speeder, Sir? It’s blocking traffic." Because he has nothing to do but wait, he attends to their request.
> 
> ——-
> 
> It takes throwing a considerable amount of his political weight around for him to be able to see her. The medic tells him they’ve pumped her stomach and that she is out of immediate danger and that all there is left to do is wait for what had already absorbed into her bloodstream to dissipate. 
> 
> She looks so fragile, so unlike the Padme he has come to know, face as pale as her white hospital gown, her hair unbound and flowing over the pillows. She has an IV in one arm, and her eyes are closed. 
> 
> "Padme, I’m sorry," he says, grasping her hand. “I should have come to you sooner. I should have seen you were hurting like this." He feels a deep sense of guilt - how could he have missed the signs? She is supposed to be his best friend and all he’s been able to do is feel annoyed by her behavior. 
> 
> She blinks and turns her head towards him. “Bail?" her voice is hoarse and strained and she squeezes his hand lightly. “Bail." A tear escapes her lashes and trails down her cheek. “I didn’t mean… for this to happen," she slurs softly. “Don’t… please don’t…" She falls back into sleep.
> 
> ——-
> 
> She’s released the next day. Bail wonders as to the wisdom of that; she is physically fine, but the fact they let her go without any discussion of why she was there in the first place concerns him. He drives her home, and she is silent most of the way, looking down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. They are nearly at 500 Republica when she speaks. “It was an accident," she says. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. It wasn’t…" She shakes her head. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself, Bail."
> 
> "Okay," he says because he doesn’t know what else to say. 
> 
> It doesn’t seem like the right response because she lets out a sharp sigh. “In any case, thank you for being there." That they might not be having this conversation, such that it is, if he hadn’t been goes unsaid. “I… would appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention this to anyone." As if he was going to run out and ring up the Holonet tabloids as soon as she was safely home. 
> 
> "Of course not," he replies, keeping his comment to himself. She does not need sarcasm, she needs his friendship. “You can trust me, Padme." He glances over at her, and she is still staring at her hands. “You can come to me for anything, you know that, right?"
> 
> She nods tightly. “Yes," she tells him. “Of course. I know."
> 
> When they arrive at her apartment, Dorme is waiting on the landing dock. Bail helps her out of the speeder and Dorme bustles her inside, but not before Padme wraps her arms around his waist and squeezes once, tightly. “Thank you," she whispers, and is gone.
> 
> ——-
> 
> She is in session the next day, to Bail’s surprise. That she stays the entire day, and attends and leads all of her committee meetings, is nothing short of astounding to him. She has a valid reason for not attending, now, but she is back and as fiery as ever, cutting down her detractors with well-placed, withering looks.
> 
> Bail is true to his word and does not say anything, but he watches, determined to see the signs earlier, determined to protect her from herself even if he cannot protect her from anything else.


End file.
